


Thranduil Flirts

by Lady_Juno



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Drunk Elves, Drunken Flirting, F/M, He totally stole the Party Elk, Jealousy, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 15:11:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3772909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Juno/pseuds/Lady_Juno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Thranduil is drunk, Legolas is jealous, and Tauriel wants to hide under a rock. There are insults, arguments, social tension, lots of wine, and a stolen Party Elk. </p>
<p>Unnamed Elven Guard: "The prince has taken Your Majesty's elk herd out into the forest. He asked that I alert you."</p>
<p>Thranduil: <em>My elk herd??? Elk-napping the Party Elk? Making off with my precious sassy gorgeous sparkly elk, why I oughtta...</em><br/>"Inform the prince the Woodland Realm's entire standing force will be dispatched to bring him and my elk back if he doesn't return immediately."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thranduil Flirts

**Author's Note:**

> This whole ficlet is total and complete crack. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as Loki and I enjoyed writing it. :D 
> 
> Note: Thranduil's dialogue above isn't in the fic itself, but was included because Loki happened to have posted it and it made me giggle too hard not to share with you.

Tauriel paused in the doorway, eyes narrowing over the tray of special cheese-cakes her king had requested she deliver. There was something very... _off_ about the way Thranduil was lounging on his throne, and the guards that usually flanked the impressive walkway were conspicuously absent.

"Sir?" she asked, approaching cautiously.

"Ah. Tauriel." Thranduil straightened slightly in his seat, smiling languidly. His eyes, glinting like pale sapphires in the sparely lit cavern, flicked briefly from the tray the elleth bore back to her pale features, seeming to linger uncomfortably long on her before he continued. "Come here." His elegant fingers twitched in a beckoning gesture. "Come on, my dear. Don't just stand there." There was a silver chalice sitting on the arm rest beside him,  and when he gestured again, more vigorously, his elbow sent it tumbling off. It hit the dais with a melodic, ringing clunk, then rolled off the edge and through the wide slats of the grate covering one of the many channels of the subterranean river. Thranduil looked a little stunned, but his expression quickly evened out again.

"Pity. A better vintage I've not had in many a year." He grinned in a way that could only be described as 'cheeky.' "I must, I'm afraid, attribute my clumsiness to your beauty, my dear. A face to make an elf king lose his wits. And his wine." Tauriel flushed, confused and a touch intimidated. She moved obediently closer and set the tray on the small table by the throne, placed for that purpose.

"Shall I bring you anything else, my lord?" The red-haired elleth was tense, watching her king nervously. This was something she expected from the lower guards, Silvan Elves like herself. Not Thranduil, Elvenking. She almost wished Legolas were here, to divert these amorous attentions from her, as he had always done before. It was exceedingly uncomfortable to be surveyed this way by one so far beyond her station.

Thranduil evidently took little notice of Tauriel's obvious discomfort. Instead, he offered a come-hither look. "Why, no, my lovely one. Have a seat. Here." He patted the armrest gently, then made a pretense of brushing it off for her. "I'll send someone else after some more wine. You've not lived 'til you've savored the subtle tones and layers of the Dorwinion that's just come in." He clapped his hands sharply, and sure enough, within seconds a dark-haired servant popped his head in the door. Thranduil made his request known, and the servant tried in vain to mask the trouble in the glance he briefly spared Tauriel before hurrying away again. It was clear he didn't approve. The elleth seated herself gingerly on the edge of the throne's armrest, eyeing Thranduil sidelong. She really didn't know what to make of this.

"My lord," Tauriel began cautiously, "I don't think it's a good idea for me to be drinking while I am... on duty. And... perhaps you've had enough for today?" Thranduil's graceful fingertips traced a line up Tauriel's slender back , then began stroking her hair.

"Nonsense," he cooed, his already deep voice dipping into its lowest register. "I desire for you to have a much-deserved respite. Surely you don't begrudge your king an hour of your beauteous presence?" He chuckled softly, curling lustrous, red strands around his fingers. "Besides, do you imagine one of my station wouldn't know when he's had enough drink? We're not like you common ones that we'd allow ourselves to fall to such... weakness. No, Tauriel. My weakness," his words became a seductive whisper, "is you."

Tauriel shivered, green eyes going a little glassy. She didn't like this. This was wrong. Wasn't it? The elleth caught herself clenching her jaw.

"My lord, what about-" His fingers danced around the nape of her neck, and Tauriel cut herself off with a shudder. Suddenly, she was praying Legolas was _nowhere_ nearby. Thranduil sensed the increase in tension in her body, withdrawing his hand a little as the servant returned with the wine, placed the tray beside the other on the table, and vacated the chamber as quickly as possible, keeping his gaze averted all the while. Thranduil grinned, reaching for one of the silver goblets on the tray. He pressed its stem into Tauriel's reluctant fingers.

"Here. You need to relax a little. You're tense as an arrow on the string." He chuckled deep in his throat. "You remind me of my wife sometimes, Valar grant her peace. Always so duty-bound, no sense of humor. But I think you'll come around. There's fire in you. Fire that longs to leap forth and blaze like the stars above."

Sincerely torn between being disturbed or being flattered, Tauriel did the only thing that made sense. She took a drink. The taste of the wine startled her, and the elleth wondered how long it had been since she'd had any. How many years, _decades,_ had passed since she and Legolas shared a bottle under the stars? She couldn't even remember why they'd done it. His idea, no doubt.

"It is... excellent, my lord," Tauriel consented after a moment. "I do not think your wife would approve, however. I should go." Slipping off the armrest, she set her goblet down and glanced meaningfully at her king, hoping he understood. "You are my sovereign, and will obey your command, my lord. I merely think that your affections would be better shared with one who was... not as lowly as I. A mere Silvan Elf doesn't deserve..." _anything like this._

Thranduil made a thoughtful sound, as though considering her words. "Perhaps. Perhaps you're right." After a brief pause, he retrieved his own wine chalice from the tray and took a lusty swig. When he leaned forward, his long, flaxen locks spilled down his shoulders, and with a somewhat exaggerated movement, he swept them back behind his pointed ears, swaying a little. He chuckled, pushing Tauriel's goblet toward her lips in a bid to make her drink. "Silvan Elf or otherwise, I'm enjoying my time with you. I'd enjoy it more... if you enjoyed your time with _me._ " His cajoling tone carried with it a vague seriousness not unlike the way he issued commands. Conditioned by centuries of accepting orders, Tauriel obediently drank. It felt like she was making an honest bid to drown herself in alcohol. But what else could she do? He was the king.

Finishing the first cupful, she made to refill it. "I'm afraid my lord has quite an unfair head-start."

"Indeed!" Thranduil's mouth twitched with amusement. "Well, no fear, my beauty. You will catch up very quickly at this pace. Besides," he made a show of studying the contents of his goblet, "I'd likely have to drink my weight in wine to feel anything. Alas. Noble blood is such a curse sometimes." He sighed a little, taking another hearty draught. Tauriel kept her opinions to herself as she drained her goblet again. She was actually in the middle of this motion when a second blond figure caught her eye. The guard captain choked on her wine and started to cough, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

Legolas frowned slightly, more confused by his father's slightly flushed complexion than Tauriel's presence (which, truth be told, was also rather disturbing). "What's... going on?"

Thranduil only just managed to maintain his composure, though few could've missed the wine that sloshed from his cup as he quickly set it on the arm of the chair behind Tauriel. Looking guilty simply wouldn't do. "Ah. Son. What an unexpected... pleasure. The captain and I were just celebrating the, er.. ." He fumbled with words for a moment before clearing his throat primly and starting over. "We are celebrating her years of excellent service. Isn't that so, Captain?"  

He was asking her to lie? To _Legolas?_ The very thought made Tauriel feel slightly ill. Rather than answering, she stifled another spate of coughing in her goblet, finishing the draught that was to empty the cup.

Legolas missed neither his father's fumbling nor Tauriel's slightly mortified expression. The elven prince took several long strides toward the throne, blue eyes growing hard.

"I feel you are not being entirely truthful, Father. And unless the captain has been relieved of today's border patrol," the blond paused to shoot Tauriel a disapproving look, "I think it best that the celebration end now."

Thranduil met his son's gaze, uncowed. What right did Legolas have to deprive him of his fun? After a moment's calculation, he sniffed lightly. "Then her duties will be given to another for today. You'd better go, or you might be late."

Legolas gave Tauriel a sharp look, and she gripped the goblet reflexively, as though it would protect her. "And you wish to stay?"

_Please don't ask me that. Just leave me out of this._ The elleth wanted nothing more than to crawl under a rock and die. "I'd... rather not say," she muttered truthfully.

"You see? She has no desire to share drink with you, Father." Legolas looked nearly triumphant, though the female had said no such thing. "Release her to her duty." _With me. Alone._

"Her duty is to _me_ first and foremost." Issuing in Thranduil's deep, carefully modulated voice, the words didn't come off nearly as petulantly as they might have. "The Captain is relieved of her typical tasks for the day, and I entrust you with making the necessary arrangements."

The Elvenking smirked, as if daring his son to challenge him further.

Legolas flushed slightly, taking two stiff strides nearer the throne and stopping only just short of reaching for Tauriel's hand and dragging her away. The elleth emptied her goblet, searching desperately for a way out of this very awkward, very unpleasant situation.

"You are _married,_ " Legolas hissed, barely soft enough to stop the words echoing through the entire hall. "You have no right."

"I am the king." Thranduil managed to look completely unperturbed by his son's admonishment. "I am above reproof. Even from you." He cast a cold glance upon Tauriel, as if to demonstrate he had no particular interest in her.

"You have your orders. The Captain stays. You go." He leaned forward slightly in his seat. "Do you refuse your king's command?"

Legolas' jaw clenched, the muscles twitching with the effort of biting back a multitude of angry retorts. What sort of a king abused his power like this? After a tense moment, he bowed slightly.

"As my king wishes." The words seemed to grind between his teeth as they emerged, sibilant, from his lips.

Tauriel watched the blond turn on his heel and stalk from the room. She felt rather like a particularly meaty bone between two hunting dogs, posturing and snarling at each other. There was no doubt in her mind that this was far from over.

"I... don't think this is necessary, Your Highness," she muttered. The elleth was quite out of her element, and it was showing in the way she held her goblet, almost trying to hide behind it.

The look Thranduil turned upon her now was warm, affectionate even. Completely different from the way he'd regarded her moments before. "Of course it isn't necessary." He chuckled lightly, refilling his goblet. "Few things are." A brief pause. "I won't hurt you, Captain. Why do you fear me so?"

These words worked a fantastic change in the elleth. She straightened, setting her goblet aside as she rolled her shoulders back, expression hardening.

"I fear nothing, my king." _Not even you._  She wouldn't say it aloud, not in a thousand years, but she thought it. She had faced down orcs, goblins, giant spiders, and all manner of evil things. A little social tension wouldn't cow her.

"Good." Thranduil downed half his goblet at a draught. "Then you will not fear my asking you a question or two." Tossing his white-gold mane back over his shoulders again, he smiled, looking well-pleased. "What are your... intentions toward my son?"

Tauriel's eyes widened slightly, the clear brown dimming slightly and taking on an odd grey sheen as her cheeks colored.

"I have no intentions toward anyone, my lord." It was an ludicrous question. Why would she pursue such things when she was the Guard Captain? She had too many things to do, too many responsibilities to throw away her time chasing romance.

"And you believe my son would have behaved like that if he weren't, to be quite blunt, jealous?" Thranduil's tone was light, verging on teasing. "His intentions toward you are obvious. I merely wondered if you... reciprocated them."

Tauriel looked a bit like she'd been hit over the head with something very heavy.

"Legolas isn't... he wouldn't. He's just..." But it made _sense._  Legolas _had_  acted jealous, and his words came back to her now.

_You are **married.** You have no right._

Not exactly the words of a comrade in arms. Tauriel flushed nearly red and fumbled for her goblet. This was much more than she had been prepared to deal with.

"You've known him since you were very young." Thranduil spoke gently, considering the sensitivity of the topic. "It stands to reason you would be caught off guard when childhood friendship became something more."

Still unfairly graceful despite his obvious inebriation, the king refilled her goblet. "Drink, Tauriel. You are overthinking things again. I want you to enjoy yourself." His lips teased at a smile, and his eyes glinted playfully. "Do not make me command you."

The red-haired elleth breathed deeply, then obediently drank. The wine was strong, even for dorwinion, and she was feeling the effect now--more than feeling it. Tauriel realized, belatedly and not without some embarrassment, that she hadn't eaten for some time, and had now had enough drink that her emotions were becoming unruly, her hands less steady.

"But he can't. He's a _prince._ " The difference in their relative stations had been made abundantly clear. Even in their friendship, they were never truly equals. Master and servant. Prince and subject. Heir to the throne and captain of the guard. It was just the way things _were._

Thranduil looked pensive, his goblet poised in his hand. "Royal blood, it seems, does not prevent the eyes of desire from... appreciating what they see." He drank, gracing her with an enigmatic smile. "You _are_ beautiful, Captain, though too humble to accept it."

Tauriel had to work hard not to choke on her wine, and finished her draught with perhaps a little more enthusiasm than she'd intended. Lowering the now-empty goblet, she sank down to sit with her back to the arm of the throne and closed her eyes. She could feel Thranduil's gaze on her, and wasn't sure she appreciated it.

"I'm just a Silvan Elf, a member of the Guard. I serve my king and my home, and that is all I will ever do." Now, if only those words didn't feel like a lie.

"Sire?" An elf in heavy armor--one of the gate guards--approached the dais hesitantly. "The prince has taken Your Majesty's elk herd out into the forest. He asked that I alert you."

Thranduil stiffened, tilting his head sideways a little, as though he wasn't sure whether he'd heard correctly. "Taking my elk herd into the forest? Why would he... I gave no such orders!" He stood swiftly, stalking toward the unfortunate guard. "And you _let him_ go?!"

"Your Highness!" Tauriel leapt to her feet, stumbling slightly as she pursued Thranduil down the walkway. "The gatekeepers wouldn't have been able to stop the herd once Legolas got them moving. It's not their fault!" The elleth paused, clearly horrified. She wasn't usually so loose-tongued. Now she felt foolish for drinking as. much as she had.

Thranduil slanted a look at her over his shoulder. "They could have closed the gates. Nothing more than a bit of common sense was expected of them." He turned a brutal look upon the guard. "Assemble a mounted party to round them up. Be quick about it. I will lead them myself."

"Y-yes, Your Highness. At once, Your Highness." The guard stuttered, and practically fled the hall.

Thranduil turned about in what was almost an undignified huff, wobbling a bit as he moved back toward his throne. Tauriel could see the confusion stamped across his face. Did he not realize he was drunk?

"Duty ever calls in a kingdom of incompetents," he sighed. "I must leave you, my dear Captain."

"This will end badly," she warned him, but Thranduil was already turning away. Tauriel watched helplessly, bracing herself against the arm of the throne. "I don't think you should go."

_Why? Why did I say that? Like he needs encouragement!_

Thranduil removed his spiky crown decorously and set it on the seat of the throne, flicking his hair back over his shoulder with a skillful toss of the head. He looked rather like some strange, golden-maned stallion.

"Don't you?" He glanced at the elleth with a slightly coquettish gleam in his eye. "And just how might you... persuade me to stay?"

That look gave her chills. Not necessarily in a bad way, she wasn't frightened of him, but she certainly didn't want to try rebuffing his amorous advances right now. That sounded exhausting.

"My lord, I would request... that you stay. Here." Tauriel indicated the throne with a lame gesture, feeling rather as though she were floundering in molasses. "With... with... me." Her brain was sluggish, spinning in slow, pointless circles somewhere above her head. How much had she had to drink? The alcohol seemed to be mounting over her good sense, burying her, suffocating her.

_I'm never drinking again. Ever._

Thranduil seemed genuinely torn. "You... _wish_ me to stay with you, Captain?" He turned toward her fully, tilting her delicate chin up so she was looking him full in the eyes. They were but a handful of inches apart, their faces, and the space between them had grown suddenly charged. With what, Tauriel couldn't say.

"And if I  did  stay," Thranduil whispered, his gaze flicking briefly to her lips, "what then?" The elleth found that suddenly, the temperature seemed to rise between them, and she hoped that the heat in her cheeks wasn't as noticeable to her king.

"I... uh...." Though not normally loquacious by nature, Tauriel couldn't remember a time when she'd been so completely lost for words. Her vision began to swim a little, now less focused than before as her breath came more quickly, heart pounding in her ears.

She didn't want him to kiss her! She wanted to kiss him even less! Not to say Thranduil was unattractive--there was no debate on that topic at all. He was unfairly attractive, to be sure. But he was her _king!_

"No?" Thranduil smirked, withdrawing to a more comfortable distance. "I thought not." He shed his heavy silk overrobe, draping the silver opulence across the arm of his throne.

"Farewell, then, Captain. We really  must  do this again sometime." Chuckling to himself, he strode away, his equilibrium only  the slightest bit compromised. Not that Tauriel noticed. The captain watched her king leave and slowly closed her eyes. This wasn't the sort of game she was good at. And right now, she needed a solid meal and a nap. This was the strangest and most uncomfortable day she'd experienced in a long time.

"Yeah... never drinking again." Though she felt even more contrite about the whole affair when she learned, later that evening, that Thranduil had somehow fallen off his horse in front of his entire entourage whilst attempting to recapture the elk herd, and would doubtless spend weeks brooding in his chambers as a result. Falling off one's horse was not a thing of dignity, and it  certainly  wouldn't have happened with an elk. Especially a highly trained battle elk.

 


End file.
